Loveless Wrists
by pr0duct-of-a-fangirl
Summary: Your name is KARKAT VANTAS, and boy, do you FUCKING HATE YOURSELF. One shot,may be multichapter, deals with self harm, may be triggering.


_**Hi guys ~ c: So lately I've been wanting to start writing fanfics again and yeah so here's a one-shot about Karkat and yeah ;w;**_

_**Be warned, it might be triggering to some, and deals with self harm, self hate, and such.**_

_**Karkat self harming is kind of my head canon for him, it explains so much, which I will explain at the end of the fic, because I kind of just want to get to it. Enjoy~**_

_**Your name is KARKAT VANTAS, and boy, do you FUCKING HATE YOURSELF.**_

_And I remember the days back when everything was okay, back when I could say I was okay and not be telling a bittersweet lie. I can't even remember them anymore._

Sitting alone, it kind of hurt. Because when you're alone, you're left with only yourself, and all you have is your thoughts to keep you company.

These thoughts were such unpleasant ones, ones that hurt.

The things I would often poke fun at, like my horns, things I would laugh off, things I acted like I didn't care about, things I ignored, when I'm left alone, they come out and haunt me. They follow me around even when I'm unmoving, they're in my shadow and in my thoughts and they're everywhere that I can't avoid and I can't find a solution and it just _hurts._

_It hurts to hate so much._

I hate this, I hate this.

I hate my blood color, the red, the unnaturally bright, crimson red, that I alone am known to possess.

I hate the horns that are poked fun at so much, the nubs, the candy corn like nubs.

I hate this, I hate that, but most of all, I guess I hate myself.

And all I could think of was taking this hatred, these feelings, out on myself, because what could someone else do to help me? I don't help anyone else, even being the leader, I know that I've lead everyone to their demise. I didn't only not help them, I've worsened them.

These unpleasant thoughts only had one cure, and it was all I could do.

I had picked out a SICKLEKIND as my _STRIFE__ SPECIBUS, _and for good reason. It was sharp, never dull, it tore through skin like a knife through butter.

My friends sometimes questioned me why I wore a sweater, Kanaya even saying; "Turtle Necks Are Fads That Passed Years Back, I Do Advise You To Wear Something More Fashionable," .

All I said in reply was "SHUT UP, ILL WEAR WHAT I LIKE.", even though what was truly on my mind was me imagining them seeing me in anything without sleeves, or even rolled up sleeves.

There were cuts, scars, burns, distractions, the makings of an addiction. They dried red, my blood smeared over gray skin. I never bothered cleaning the wounds, or wiping off the blood, I just smeared it all over my skin, as if that would make it change colors.

And while everywhere from my shoulder to half way down my arm was covered, there was still so much left. There were wrists; there was every other part on my body. And so, with that, knowing how much space I had left, it didn't even hurt to drag the sickle across my skin, once, twice, three times, ten, until all I could see was the blood flowing down. I was calm, I was at peace, until there was a knock, it startled me, it made me smear the blood not only on my skin, but my sweater too. Fuck.

" WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT?" I asked, hoping my voice wasn't as shaky as I imagined it to be, or my tone as penetratable as I thought it was.

"Your Tone Speaks For You, Karkat. May I Come In?" It was Kanaya. Fuck. Fuck Fuck FUCK.

She's like—the biggest therapist out of all the trolls.

"NO YOU CANT COME IN, MIND YOUR OWN FUCKING BUISNESS."

I reached for the door lock quickly, but she was quicker, pulling open the door. I turned around, my back to her. I tried to pull down my sleeves, I did. It was hidden enough. You cant smell blood, you can only really see it.  
"What's That On Your Hand?" She asked, looking down at my hands.

Fuck.

"N-NOTHING! WHAT DID YOU WANT?"

Ignoring me, she rolled up my sleeves despite my protests, examining the cuts, the scars, everything. Very lightly, she touched them, her fingers gliding gently down, as if she might re open them.

"Why, Karkat?" She asked, as if it mattered.

I didn't even answer. I didn't care.

"Are You Going To Do This Again, Karkat?", she asked, once again, like it mattered. I should just be left to my own devices.

"PROBABLY." I answered as bitterly and sarcastically as I could.

She sighed, and walked out of the room. She was going to come back to this topic again, I knew it. Whatever. And just for that, were there three more slashes, three more scars that needed to be left to heal.

It didn't matter anyway, they would of happened eventually.

_I'm not strong enough to stop this monster, so why try?_

"_**If I surrender to this feeling maybe all the aches and pains will go and I can close my eyes, **__**  
**__**never again to have them open till I bleed out all I've been." -Bayside**_

_So yeah… That was it you guys. Now to explain my reasoning;_

_Karkat hates himself, and speaking from personal experience, that's a reason to self harm. He hates so much about him, and his blood is red, which makes me think of self harm just right away. He always wears turtlenecks, and not only to protect himself from Kanaya. He's pretty grouchy and secretive, and it fits him so well, not that it's a good thing. I love all of you ~ _


End file.
